


THE NIGHT

by ellie_elle



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Community: avengerkink, M/M, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Science Bros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-15
Updated: 2013-07-15
Packaged: 2017-12-20 06:56:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/884276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellie_elle/pseuds/ellie_elle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a prompt on avengerkink: "There's been a battle requiring Hulk recently. As usual, Bruce is extremely drained of energy afterwards. But he and Tony are onto something exciting and important in the laboratory, and he's determined to push on and ACCOMPLISH SOME SCIENCE DAMMIT.</p><p>Except every time Tony looks over, Bruce is drifting off more and more, completely losing the battle with sleep. Tony just indulges him, knowing it's only a matter of time before Bruce crashes completely. Then maybe some fluff where Tony just puts a blanket over his shoulders/hauls him over to a couch/quietly takes care of him?? Because it secretly does freak him out how weak Bruce is after a transformation."</p>
            </blockquote>





	THE NIGHT

**Author's Note:**

> link to the original prompt: http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/16524.html?thread=36182924#t36182924

The elevator dinged and the door promptly opened.

Neither of the two impossibly battered-looking men made a move to exit.

"Tony."

"Yep?"

"We have to finish this as soon as possible, you know that."

"...Yeah – _no._ I mean – not that I wouldn't be open to spending the entire night in my own personal heaven – but it would be sorta pointless without you. Not to mention – "

"No, Tony, I'm coming too."

"– boring. Excuse me, you 'are' coming? Present tense? You have got to be kidding me."

"There is no reason for the delay – and you can't deny what we're working on could _actually_ be groundbreaking. Besides, SHIELD needs this thing ASAP and I am feeling up to it, meaning there is no reason not to –"

"I'm sorry, but –"

"—go to the lab and finish this."

"– Look, I don't care if it's ' _groundbreaking'_ , cause – you know what? I mean, no offense, but if I saw you right now – and didn't know what you've just been through – I swear I'd be 100% sure the zombie apocalypse finally started."

There was a sudden, pregnant pause. Tony grew as serious as he could.

"It's just... hm..." he sighed. "It's late. We were in a battle. _The Hulk_ " _–_ and Bruce's wince didn't go unnoticed – "was in the battle – It's just... You should get some rest, Bruce."

"I told you, I'm feeling all right –"

Tony raised a finger. "A.) just because you're _feeling_ all right doesn't mean you _are_ all right and b.) -- look, there were numerous -- countless times when I found you either completely out of it or maybe, _maybe_ able to keep your eyes open after letting the Other Guy come out, OK?"

"Tony, you've seen me transform what, three of four times since we've met...?"

"That's not the point. I've got all the evidence that I need. And also, I'd appreciate you cutting the crap. If you so much as _think_ about convincing me that usually you're full of energy after hulking out, I'm gonna be really angry. And yeah, I can go there too."

"Never noticed that..." Bruce mumbled.

"Shut it," he was warned. "You wanna know what I've been wondering for the last couple of hours? How the _hell_ is this guy," and now he was also being pointed at, "even conscious right now? At first I figured, I get it, adrenalin rush, yadda yadda yadda. But when Coulson started his I'd-like-to-kill-myself-now-thanks debriefing, and you – you _actually_ seemed interested in it – I just told myself, you know what, this guy deserves a goddamn medal! And now – three and a half hours later – it's just – I can't even look at you without jumping out of my skin, Bruce! And I really wouldn't like to go grey prematurely, so---"

Bruce decided it was time for a new approach.

"Tony." And what do you know – his voice could sound pretty damn authoritative. "We're going to the lab. End of discussion."

And Tony wouldn't exactly ever admit it, but he was sort of scared to argue any further.

(--- no, _stunned_ , that's the word. _Stunned_. Yes. As in _shocked_. He'd go with that. That was it. Yes, sir.)

 

***

 

As far as Tony was concerned, he had a _ball_ doing this. After all, come on. If occasionally spending 90% of your life locked up in a lab running on 10 minutes of sleep was an Olympic discipline, then, damn, he'd have to build an extra goddamn floor and start making plans for expansion to have somewhere to store his prizes.

As for Banner, let him do as he wishes. Whatever. Tony figured tomorrow he'd just avoid Fury and his probable questions about the new member of the team whose apparent superpower was being a Dracula look-alike.

"I updated the formula. Any changes?" he decided he wanted to know.

"Aaaaaah. Hm. Y – wait... No. Wait – no. No."

Tony frowned at the unusual stalling of the usually terse spoken physicist. He had already come up with the perfect scathing remark before he even turned halfway around, but it stopped in his throat at the sight in front of him.

Bruce was leaning heavily on the glass table, his hand supporting his head. His face was decorated by a slight frown, eyelids violently going up and down. Tony figured that chances  he was going to get noticed staring – no, _observing –_ were practically nonexistent, so as he was getting comfortable leaning against the wall, it hit him.

_Maybe his mind thinks he's up to this... but if it turns out that his body decides the council has made a stupid-ass decision......... besides – bed, table – same thing, really._

This was going to be good.

Bruce was (pretty damn slowly) shaking his head left and right to wake himself up, and Tony could sense that him posing that question earlier was probably the only reason Bruce wasn't out of it already. Bruce took a deep breath and tried to focus on the screen in front of him.

Tony made a bet with himself on how long this struggle would last.

_He's got five minutes maximum._

Bruce's head lolled forwards, then immediately snapped up, almost in a daze, and once again he used his arm to support it.

_Make that two._

Tony couldn't help but let a small smirk find its way to his lips as he watched his friend's eyelids flutter and finally close.

"Bruce, you are _adorable_ ," he couldn't resist.

A beat, then – "Mhm." Soft and muffled.

\-- and immediately Tony's eyes widened and he – no, he wasn't gonna laugh, he wasn't wasn't wasn't –

And then a wild idea appeared.

"Also, Tony Stark is the best."

"Mhmmm." Slow.

"And he is the most handsome man you've ever laid eyes on."

"Mmmmmmhmmm." So slow.

 _Possibilities,_ endless _possibilities…_ Tony mused. _Oh, hey! Let me see…_

"Protons are subatomic particles that have a negative electrical charge."

"… Wh-at? N—no; it's positive…."

 _Holy shit_ , thought Tony, _did this guy choose the right profession._

"Come on, Bruce! I was having fun over here!" he moaned.

The reply never came, though. Tony checked his wristwatch to check the time – one minute 46 secon – –

A loud, resounding _THUD_ brought his head up again and wouldn't you know it – Bruce was out, his outstretched arm and head limp on the table at last.

Tony grimaced emphatically. Come tomorrow morning, he just might notice a huge bruise adoring Bruce's forehead.

But hey, on the upside, at least he was finally resting.

Tony shrugged, pleased with himself for his accurate estimation – fourteen to thirteen seconds up or down, who cares anyway – and turned back to his work.

 

***

 

Then he got so caught up in it he did not notice the time passing and it was only by accident – i.e. through a somewhat concerned JARVIS (wait what?!) – that he noticed it was – _oh joy!_ – 5 am. One hour had passed by just like that. Tony frowned, sitting back in his chair.

"Can't finish this part without Banner… dammit."

A quick glance he then threw at Bruce unexpectedly made him freeze. He was pretty sure that – – –

Bruce hadn't moved one single bit. No – he was still partially reclined in that same awfully uncomfortable position: first, his head was crushing his left arm against the table in a way that seemed painful for both parts of the body; second, the edge of the table looked like it was trying to rip his armpit apart; and third, the rest of his body was grotesquely rotated to the side. Not to mention the plastic armrest that was digging its way into his ribs. Or the way his glasses almost came to poking his left eye.

Tony winced and tried to ignore the stupid bad feeling that rose along with the guilt he involuntarily felt for not noticing this sooner. But knowing that dwelling on the past would not do anything to improve his state of mind, he set out to redeem himself. He had to get Bruce to bed.

(– make that couch. Yes – to the couch, Mr Stark's personal emergency pass-out couch – there it was in the corner, and not five hundred thousand floors above them – so yeah, that worked.)

And as he approached, he could also notice that Bruce's body was terribly rigid for someone who was supposed to be sleeping, and coming to stand next to him only further showed Tony that Bruce's breathing was unbelievably controlled and shallow.

_What the hell...?_

Swallowing his awkwardness, he stiffly reached out to shake Bruce's shoulder. "C'mon, Big Guy, let's get – _whoa,_ _WHOA_!!!"

– and – _holy hell in the fuck goddammit! –_ before he even knew what was going on, the side of his face exploded with pain and he found out he was sprawled out on the floor, and this huge weight was pressing – pinning him down and – oh _God_ was that _Bruce? –_ Yes _you goddamn moron it was! –_ – and not only that, but he was also aiming clumsily, desperately, _wildly_ for his face, for his stomach, for his groin – for all the most sensitive places – and _holy shit_ there was something loud in his ears and then it was loud everywhere and his head was pounding with the euphoric cacophony of the fallen chairs and broken glass and _thuds_ and _booms_ and _bangs_ resounding through the lab when their limbs collided with the floor and the worst sound of all, slurred and slow and agonizingly desperate and confusingly quiet – – –

"Stay – _stayawayfromme! Stay..._ No _—gettaway---_ don't _– lemme go –_ tellRoss _... --_ not with you _, 'm not goin'_ youcan't- _\-------"_

And combined with punches – no matter how clumsy, how puzzlingly disoriented, how _weak_ – and God knows they were so almost embarrassingly sluggish and fueled by nothing else than sheer instinct ---- well, let's just say Tony didn't exactly have a fun time doing this.

"Hey! H _ey_!" Tony shouted as an open palm scarcely grazed the side of his forehead – _what the hell was that, Bruce?! –_ and, doing his best at ignoring the reasons that led to his friend lashing out like this, he grabbed Bruce's wrists – gently, _as goddamn gently as Tony Stark would ever be_ – and tried to get him to focus on his face.

"Look at me," he hoped was the right thing to say. But Bruce's head kept lolling forwards and his limbs kept failing him and when he wasn't quick enough to react his torso would bump into Tony's.

And Tony, what could he do but look on in horror at the weakness, the incredible, all-encompassing cruel lethargy that gripped the other man's body.

 _\-- but no, he did_ not _feel the pressure behind his eyeballs and the heaviness in his chest and his breathing – well, excuse you! –_ nothing _was wrong with his perfectly fluid and stable and – just really... really painless breathing – and when he finally got "Bruce!" out his voice did_ not _waver dangerously, OK?_

And he would be lying if he were to say he knew exactly when it was that Bruce managed to clutch at his shirt or when it was that he managed to cradle Bruce's head in his hands. Trying his best to ignore this strange... well, _strangeness_ , he decided what the next obvious move should be and he then slowly, carefully lifted Bruce's head.

And was met by two – _brown!_ – exhausted, half-lidded eyes.

And – they saw him.

"Tony?" Bruce did not have it in himself anymore to raise his voice above a whisper. – –

but it was more than enough: Tony nodded enthusiastically, not able not to – not even giving a single damn if he let out a – and this was an understatement – _relieved_ laugh. He immediately latched onto the opening: "Yes. Yes! It's me – Tony. Yeah! Tony! It's just me." He really didn't know what he was saying.

Bruce blinked. Nodded.

Then went absolutely limp. Tony caught him.

They stayed – or better, _Tony_ stayed like that for some time, unmoving, too stunned to even bat an eyelash. He almost didn't even dare gulp.

He awkwardly lowered Bruce onto his lap and if he hadn't felt his ribcage move against his knees and the warmth of his body seep into his own, the man's unresponsiveness just would have convinced him that he had --....... ---- left the building.

And Tony had to gulp again and also fight that goddamn strange feeling rising in his chest

– _and he didn't know! He goddamn did not know what the hell that feeling was because right now it was bad, but not_ bad _bad, only_ weird _bad, and so what then sue him he was a goddamn engineer not a psychiatrist_ – and he let his arm fall and so his hand fell on Bruce's back and Tony could not stop his brain from registering how muscular and finally relaxed, but at the same time frail it was and how warm it was and then how naturally his head rested against his thigh and how softly and in deep breaths the air went in and out of his body, and how his hand still loosely held onto the old, washed-out fabric of his t-shirt.

Tony mentally dared anyone to just goddamn _dare_ tell him that Bruce wasn't _human._

His head bowed, he couldn't stop his brain from going into overdrive. He should have been more determined not to go to the lab, he should not have backed down so quickly, so easily, when he knew – when _he knew_ what the Hulk always did to Bruce and yes, he remembered the time when Bruce could not be roused after that one battle and the time when it took him five goddamn minutes to just recognize Tony and now it turned out that Tony let this battered and wounded man exhaust himself even more – infinitely more than necessary and sleep in the most uncomfortable position ever known to mankind and – _well fucking DONE Tony, you're such a goddamn moron he couldn't even – –!_

He didn't even have enough energy for the Hulk to even attempt to come out and it scared Tony so much more than he would ever, _ever_ admit.

_What did they do to you out there, Bruce? What the hell prepared you to fight like this – dammit – with no energy left at all--- ....  What the hell did they – how did you even – what would you do after hulking out – did they ever ambush you where did you how did you ......----- ._

His head was teeming with questions, so many many questions and when he couldn't take it anymore he shook his head to chase them away. Not now. Maybe one day (although he wouldn't bet on it) – but definitely not now.

He took a deep breath. Then he realized.

(He would have to _carry_ Bruce.)

And then he gingerly, nervously, gently put his arms around Bruce and scooped him up and carried him to the couch, all the while trying to ignore how real his breath felt on his neck. Once there, he slowly and carefully laid him down. He forced himself to pay good attention and to put his head to rest comfortably against the pillow that was propped against the armrest, and he made sure none of the limbs were crossed or crushed under the weight of his body. Then he was at a loss as to what to do.

_Maybe cover him with something ?-- yeah, that seems reasonable! Ummmm...._

He looked around, only to notice a very irritating lack of objects warm, soft and of a relatively big area.

He scoffed, irritated. Now he would have to go get ---

and then there was some shuffling next to him. Upon glancing in the direction of the sound, it turned out it was no-one else but: Dum-E. And holding – look at that! – a blanket.

Tony smiled softly despite himself. He took the blanket from him, figuring a "thanks" would probably be too uncharacteristic, and awkwardly covered Bruce in it.

Straightening himself back up, he found Dum-E staring – well, as far as he was able to be considered staring – at him. Dum-E deliberately, almost _pensively_ tilted his head to the side.

"What? You want a thank you?... well –...... yeah, okay – Thanks! – now stop staring. It's kinda freaking daddy out."

But Dum-E still stayed like that for a few more moments before slowly reversing, "gaze" unwavering.

Tony decided he would put that on his fast growing list of _Reasons why this night was goddamn crazy_.

There was some slight commotion on the couch – Bruce seemed to dive deeper into the warm blanket, which was the first movement he made since passing out. Tony averted his eyes, too uncomfortable being in a situation this intimate. The sentiment was only made stronger by the fact that Bruce consciously let himself be this – _well – umm – oh for fuck's sake, vulnerable, okay,_ vulnerable, _we'll just have to go with that – –_ and that he let – allowed himself – – that he _trusted_   Tony so much; and as for Tony, well, it freaked him out like nothing else could.

Forcing himself to take one more look at Bruce, he realized that, damn, he really did do a _fine_ job of this. Bruce looked so comfortable it almost hurt.

In the end, Tony figured, he did not know a single person on the face of this planet more deserving of that small luxury.

He cleared his throat. Now, knowing Nick Fury didn't have any blackmail material and/or reasons to send Bruce to who knows how many shrinks, he wanted it to stay that way. Walking back to his desk – and only stopping to pick Bruce's fallen glasses up – he intoned.

"JARVIS?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Delete the last...hm... -- make that 15 minutes of video surveillance footage. For good measure."

"Already done, sir."

Tony smirked. "-- I like you."

"As you should."

Then he rolled his eyes. "JARVIS, you're turning into........ hm –..... _me,_ " he paused. Thinking of Bruce, he added: "Lower the lights. 80 percent."

And lowered they were.

Tony sighed and sat back down in his chair. He tried to get back to working, and did manage to do some tinkering, but ultimately gave up and poured himself a drink.

And he thought all those questions would go away, but no – the thing was, they simply weren't as loud as they were initially. Which meant that now they would not stop their exhausting incessant yet tortuously _subtle_ nagging, demanding answers.

And Tony – he did not have them, and he could not decide what was worse: not knowing what had happened or actually having an idea. Because he did have one.

And upon realizing just what it implied, he quenched his gag reflex and did something he never ever thought he would do –

he _prayed_ he was wrong.

 

***

 

Bruce only woke up in the late afternoon, blinking confusedly at the unusual surroundings. Why was he –

Oh. _Oh. Oh no. No._

He rubbed his eyes gingerly as he sat up, disgruntled at the abundance of unclear and foggy recollections from last night. Even without all the information, he knew one thing for sure – oh, no...no he couldn't – he couldn't talk about it, not now, not yet, and _not when his heart rate kept rising and not when Tony –_

And as if on cue, the genius billionaire playboy philanthropist had to make his presence known.

"Good morning--- well, afternoon, Sleeping Beauty. Been wondering when you'd come back to us."

Bruce swallowed, not allowing himself to breathe lest he caused something he would regret. "...Hey," he basically exhaled, and though he really didn't want to make it a whisper, it still ended up sounding suspiciously like one.

And then, as if both of them felt it – that tension or whatever it was – their gazes connected. Both uncomfortable, both reluctant to voice anything, both wishing they didn't have to do this, but both open and both understanding. Bruce was the one to break eye contact. Tony the one to break the silence.

"You don't owe me anything, Bruce... Just so we're clear." Pause.

Bruce could only nod. In fact, no – he could say something too – he would make himself say something because Tony at least deserved this quiet, reluctant, unsure but honest –

"...Thank you."

And then, as if something had unexpectedly snapped, there was lightness and for a while there things were once again normal – or at least, as normal as they could be considering the two of them were involved.

 

They weren't sure if they would want to trade that.


End file.
